League of Women Voters get their butts handed to them by the crowd, who are hell-bent on saying the pledge of allegiance whether event organizers want them to or not!
Fight the establishment! Power to the people! Incorrigible 4 life!
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Wow! That's Fast!
I sat at the stoplight fuming. I hated working lunches. Not only do lunch customers suck, but so did the little Chinese bastard I had to work for, and his little gang of Chinese whores.
I was the white guy. The one hired to drive and interact with the customers, because the shady little motherfuckers did nothing but piss customers off.
There wasn't a day in my life that I hated working for the little bastard, but the pay was just good enough not to leave.
Will this fucking stoplight ever turn green?
I watched in horror as no less than four school busses turned onto the avenue in front of me.
Fuck.
A 4x4 pickup truck moves into the turn lane beside me, and belches diesel smoke directly into my open window.
The rage narrows my vision. It's all that little yellow bastard's fault.
The turn lane light turns green, the stink of diesel fills the interior of the car while the roar of the truck's engine drowns out one of my favorite songs.
My head begins to slowly explode.
In the instant blink of a digital eye, the light turns green, unleashing the naked, unfounded anger behind my enraged, irrational eyes.
300 pounds of leaden foot drops like an anvil onto 300 supercharged horsepower.
Freedom! Like a shot of anti-psychotic drugs, the acceleration melts away my depravity, my insanity, my irrational hatred, and brings a curve of a smile to my soured puss.
It's why I put up with this bullshit. The tires chirp as the transmission snaps into 2nd gear right on the redline. I've got this sucker floored.
Racing up the hill the line of school busses goes down fast. The first one in the left lane, the second one in the right lane, then instantly dodging into the other lane again as the next two busses come up on the left.
HAHA! See ya suckers in the yellow hammers later.
I love this job. Love that little Chinese guy who lets me earn twenty bucks an hour to do this shit. Love the world. I even love school busses and 4x4 diesel trucks.
Grinning ear to ear I throw a glance into the rearview mirror, and look back down the hill at the scene I just left behind.
I'm doing about 120 in a 45.
Behind and between the school busses are cops. Lots and lots of cops. Little blue and red bubble gum machines EVERYWHERE.
Ooops.
I shot past the liquor store on the right like a bat out of hell.
Looking in the rear-view the cops are threading their way between the busses. The lead cop is halfway up the hill already.
Shit.
Looking for a spot to shut down, I see the convenience store coming up on the right. I haven't been in a police chase in almost 20 years. Things have changed. I'm not going to get out of this one. I start thinking about the charges that are coming against me as I hit the brakes hard and slide into the c-store parking lot.
I'm going to jail...again.
I roll up into the parking lot and park off to the side, by the dumpster. I gotta get out of the car and throw something in it before they come rolling up.
Reaching for my seatbelt, I see the first two cops go screaming past me down the avenue, with their lights and sirens going.
I don't get out of the car, but instead ease it into reverse, and head for the left side of the parking lot, behind the gas pumps.
The other cops pass the convenience store.
No fuckin way.
Looking left and right, I pull out into the street going back the way I'd come. Looking in the rear-view for cops, I light my blunt.
Down the hill and back at the traffic light where this all started, I see two more cops at the light, headed the way I'd just come from. I hold my bomber low, and take a right at the light. This will take me out into the country about a mile, then another right, and two miles later I'll be at the destination I was headed to when I started to cause myself a lot of trouble.
Puff puff.
I take a detour through a gated community with the gates open because it's daytime.
Toke toke.
A few minutes later I pop back out on the road, and continue toward my destination, sucking on that roach.
Throwing the last 1/8 of an inch of blunt out the window, I see my turn coming up to make the customer's address. I've got my shit together now.
Turning onto the customer's street, which intersects both the street that I'm on, and the one where I'd caused so much mayhem for the local authoritarians, I see a cruising cop approaching the intersection slowly.
I wave to him most incorrigibly.
Arriving at my destination, the customer is in the yard, and surprised to see me. "Wow! That's fast!" she exclaims.
So I tell her. No big deal. I could have been here a lot sooner, but I smoked a doobie, stopped at a gas station, and got in a police chase on the way over here.
She laughs and tells me I'm hilarious, and tips me $5.
I love hating this job.
I was the white guy. The one hired to drive and interact with the customers, because the shady little motherfuckers did nothing but piss customers off.
There wasn't a day in my life that I hated working for the little bastard, but the pay was just good enough not to leave.
Will this fucking stoplight ever turn green?
I watched in horror as no less than four school busses turned onto the avenue in front of me.
Fuck.
A 4x4 pickup truck moves into the turn lane beside me, and belches diesel smoke directly into my open window.
The rage narrows my vision. It's all that little yellow bastard's fault.
The turn lane light turns green, the stink of diesel fills the interior of the car while the roar of the truck's engine drowns out one of my favorite songs.
My head begins to slowly explode.
In the instant blink of a digital eye, the light turns green, unleashing the naked, unfounded anger behind my enraged, irrational eyes.
300 pounds of leaden foot drops like an anvil onto 300 supercharged horsepower.
Freedom! Like a shot of anti-psychotic drugs, the acceleration melts away my depravity, my insanity, my irrational hatred, and brings a curve of a smile to my soured puss.
It's why I put up with this bullshit. The tires chirp as the transmission snaps into 2nd gear right on the redline. I've got this sucker floored.
Racing up the hill the line of school busses goes down fast. The first one in the left lane, the second one in the right lane, then instantly dodging into the other lane again as the next two busses come up on the left.
HAHA! See ya suckers in the yellow hammers later.
I love this job. Love that little Chinese guy who lets me earn twenty bucks an hour to do this shit. Love the world. I even love school busses and 4x4 diesel trucks.
Grinning ear to ear I throw a glance into the rearview mirror, and look back down the hill at the scene I just left behind.
I'm doing about 120 in a 45.
Behind and between the school busses are cops. Lots and lots of cops. Little blue and red bubble gum machines EVERYWHERE.
Ooops.
I shot past the liquor store on the right like a bat out of hell.
Looking in the rear-view the cops are threading their way between the busses. The lead cop is halfway up the hill already.
Shit.
Looking for a spot to shut down, I see the convenience store coming up on the right. I haven't been in a police chase in almost 20 years. Things have changed. I'm not going to get out of this one. I start thinking about the charges that are coming against me as I hit the brakes hard and slide into the c-store parking lot.
I'm going to jail...again.
I roll up into the parking lot and park off to the side, by the dumpster. I gotta get out of the car and throw something in it before they come rolling up.
Reaching for my seatbelt, I see the first two cops go screaming past me down the avenue, with their lights and sirens going.
I don't get out of the car, but instead ease it into reverse, and head for the left side of the parking lot, behind the gas pumps.
The other cops pass the convenience store.
No fuckin way.
Looking left and right, I pull out into the street going back the way I'd come. Looking in the rear-view for cops, I light my blunt.
Down the hill and back at the traffic light where this all started, I see two more cops at the light, headed the way I'd just come from. I hold my bomber low, and take a right at the light. This will take me out into the country about a mile, then another right, and two miles later I'll be at the destination I was headed to when I started to cause myself a lot of trouble.
Puff puff.
I take a detour through a gated community with the gates open because it's daytime.
Toke toke.
A few minutes later I pop back out on the road, and continue toward my destination, sucking on that roach.
Throwing the last 1/8 of an inch of blunt out the window, I see my turn coming up to make the customer's address. I've got my shit together now.
Turning onto the customer's street, which intersects both the street that I'm on, and the one where I'd caused so much mayhem for the local authoritarians, I see a cruising cop approaching the intersection slowly.
I wave to him most incorrigibly.
Arriving at my destination, the customer is in the yard, and surprised to see me. "Wow! That's fast!" she exclaims.
So I tell her. No big deal. I could have been here a lot sooner, but I smoked a doobie, stopped at a gas station, and got in a police chase on the way over here.
She laughs and tells me I'm hilarious, and tips me $5.
I love hating this job.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Take a Hostage
I was laying there on the metal table, with my ass hanging out of the hospital gown, shivering and in pain. I'd never had any pain like this before. It was pain that I cannot adequately describe to you. Words cannot define it. You have to experience it for yourself to get the full impact of it.
I was 21 years old. I had been enduring this pain for most of the evening, and well into the wee hours of the morning.
The pain began as I was working the grill at a family-type upscale burger shack. In short order I was lying on the break room floor, moaning and clutching my guts. Someone was in there, and they wanted out. When a server came into the break room for her 15 minutes, I asked her to tell the manager to call me an ambulance. She returned shortly with a message.
Get your butt back on the line, or you're fired.
Sonofabitch.
I hauled myself to the back door on my hands and knees, hit the crash bar, and crawled to my car.
I could see the twin towers of the medical center just a few blocks away. "You can do this." I said to myself, and pulled myself to my feet with the door handle. That's when I blew chunks.
Cleaning my mouth up on my uniform, I got myself into the car and found the ignition. I lit a cigarette, and groaned as I started that big block up, and revved the motor to warm it up quicker.
I was leaned over to one side as I drove toward the hospital, and into the entrance that said AMBULANCE ONLY.
When I pulled up to the automatic door, I toed the high beam switch on the floor and everyone inside looked right at me.
I opened the door and fell out on the ground.
When I came to it was clear that little time had passed. I was on a gurney being rolled down a hallway, and someone was asking me if I could tell them my name.
I couldn't. I tried to enunciate this, but it came out as a groan I think.
Six hours and a whole bunch of tests, and even more prodding and poking doctors later, I learned that the problem was I had been busy making rocks, while I was frying burgers. I had a whole pile of little stones that wanted to exit my kidneys, and had gotten stuck. On both sides!
Relief was promised. The pain medication that was being withheld until the compassionate quacks could determine what was wrong, and of course that I wasn't a junkie with a serious jones, was supposedly on the way.
Looking at the clock, that had been an hour ago, and then some.
Fucking bastards.
So there I lay, with my ass getting colder, and the pain getting more intense, until I just couldn't take it anymore.
That's when the little geek in the lab coat walked by my room.
Hey dude! It seemed to come out as a groan from the depths of hell, at least to my ears, but it got his attention.
"Yes?" the skinny, small man said, leaning backwards to stick his head in the door.
"Come here dude, I need some help." I managed to motion with the hand I wasn't holding my guts together with.
"What is it?" the man asked, as he crossed the room towards me.
"Come here, I can barely talk." I whispered in a raspy voice filled with as much pain as I could put into it. I had plenty to spare.
He leaned down, and his tie dangled forward out of his lab coat. He was looking quizzically into my eyes. His were absolutely devoid of concern, and in fact he seemed rather annoyed with me.
He was about to get really upset.
With speed and strength I didn't know I had left, I grabbed his tie, and choked up on it right to the knot, wrapping it around my fist three times.
I WANT A FUCKING SHOT! WHEN THEY KNOCK ME OUT, I'LL LET YOU GO! SO START SCREAMING OR I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU TO DEATH! LET'S SCREAM TOGETHER! AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!
AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! The lab rat screamed with me. He jerked his head sideways, trying to make his face a lousy target for my other fist as I pulled myself up and him down, trying to rise off of the metal table.
AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! we screamed together.
By the third scream the room was beginning to fill up with people. We screamed one more time just for good measure.
The lights went out.
When I woke up I was on the 7th floor of the hospital. I know this because it was painted on the wall, over the elevator, and that was all I could see. It seemed I had been restrained, sedated, and couldn't move very much. This was fine with me. Looking down I could see I was stopped at a nurse's station, and that an orderly was handing a nurse a folder.
"This guy is to be kept sedated. He took a hostage down in the ER." the orderly said.
"Mmmm. A real sweetheart huh?" the smartass nurse quipped back at him.
I dozed off again, feeling no pain.
Over the next 5 days I discovered that the maximum dose of morphine for your pain is vastly different from the maximum dose of morphine you are given if they believe that you might cause them pain.
Next time you're hurting so bad you can't stand it, all you have to do is take a hostage.
At least, that's what you do when you're incorrigible.
I was 21 years old. I had been enduring this pain for most of the evening, and well into the wee hours of the morning.
The pain began as I was working the grill at a family-type upscale burger shack. In short order I was lying on the break room floor, moaning and clutching my guts. Someone was in there, and they wanted out. When a server came into the break room for her 15 minutes, I asked her to tell the manager to call me an ambulance. She returned shortly with a message.
Get your butt back on the line, or you're fired.
Sonofabitch.
I hauled myself to the back door on my hands and knees, hit the crash bar, and crawled to my car.
I could see the twin towers of the medical center just a few blocks away. "You can do this." I said to myself, and pulled myself to my feet with the door handle. That's when I blew chunks.
Cleaning my mouth up on my uniform, I got myself into the car and found the ignition. I lit a cigarette, and groaned as I started that big block up, and revved the motor to warm it up quicker.
I was leaned over to one side as I drove toward the hospital, and into the entrance that said AMBULANCE ONLY.
When I pulled up to the automatic door, I toed the high beam switch on the floor and everyone inside looked right at me.
I opened the door and fell out on the ground.
When I came to it was clear that little time had passed. I was on a gurney being rolled down a hallway, and someone was asking me if I could tell them my name.
I couldn't. I tried to enunciate this, but it came out as a groan I think.
Six hours and a whole bunch of tests, and even more prodding and poking doctors later, I learned that the problem was I had been busy making rocks, while I was frying burgers. I had a whole pile of little stones that wanted to exit my kidneys, and had gotten stuck. On both sides!
Relief was promised. The pain medication that was being withheld until the compassionate quacks could determine what was wrong, and of course that I wasn't a junkie with a serious jones, was supposedly on the way.
Looking at the clock, that had been an hour ago, and then some.
Fucking bastards.
So there I lay, with my ass getting colder, and the pain getting more intense, until I just couldn't take it anymore.
That's when the little geek in the lab coat walked by my room.
Hey dude! It seemed to come out as a groan from the depths of hell, at least to my ears, but it got his attention.
"Yes?" the skinny, small man said, leaning backwards to stick his head in the door.
"Come here dude, I need some help." I managed to motion with the hand I wasn't holding my guts together with.
"What is it?" the man asked, as he crossed the room towards me.
"Come here, I can barely talk." I whispered in a raspy voice filled with as much pain as I could put into it. I had plenty to spare.
He leaned down, and his tie dangled forward out of his lab coat. He was looking quizzically into my eyes. His were absolutely devoid of concern, and in fact he seemed rather annoyed with me.
He was about to get really upset.
With speed and strength I didn't know I had left, I grabbed his tie, and choked up on it right to the knot, wrapping it around my fist three times.
I WANT A FUCKING SHOT! WHEN THEY KNOCK ME OUT, I'LL LET YOU GO! SO START SCREAMING OR I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU TO DEATH! LET'S SCREAM TOGETHER! AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!
AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! The lab rat screamed with me. He jerked his head sideways, trying to make his face a lousy target for my other fist as I pulled myself up and him down, trying to rise off of the metal table.
AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! we screamed together.
By the third scream the room was beginning to fill up with people. We screamed one more time just for good measure.
The lights went out.
When I woke up I was on the 7th floor of the hospital. I know this because it was painted on the wall, over the elevator, and that was all I could see. It seemed I had been restrained, sedated, and couldn't move very much. This was fine with me. Looking down I could see I was stopped at a nurse's station, and that an orderly was handing a nurse a folder.
"This guy is to be kept sedated. He took a hostage down in the ER." the orderly said.
"Mmmm. A real sweetheart huh?" the smartass nurse quipped back at him.
I dozed off again, feeling no pain.
Over the next 5 days I discovered that the maximum dose of morphine for your pain is vastly different from the maximum dose of morphine you are given if they believe that you might cause them pain.
Next time you're hurting so bad you can't stand it, all you have to do is take a hostage.
At least, that's what you do when you're incorrigible.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Wise man's bluff
I was eyeballing the small town cop in my rear-view mirror as he slowly got out of his cruiser and approached the back of my custom van with the gold running boards, mag wheels, and tinted oversize windows. The 302 was purring like a tiger cub on a teat.
"SHUT IT OFF!!!" the grizzled old radar trapper yelled at me.
And so I did with a grin, shaking my head. I had just successfully came to a complete stop and looked both ways before continuing on at 10mph for the 12th block in a row with him right on my bumper.
And he pulled me over anyway.
That's what I get for asking a cop for directions.
Was he eyeballing me over the top of those $1.99 aviator's glasses, or studying the ground for his lost clue?
Removing my M-frame Oakleys I realized I had seen this piece of work before. Hmmmm. Where do I know this cat from?
I'd only been to this town twice, and the first time a buddy was driving in the front seat while in the backseat a girl was showing me her prowess at the game of hide the sausage.
The second time....oooh shit. That's the guy I held the door for at the stop n rob last week up here. The one who was standing behind me while I was complaining about their lack of choice in rolling papers.
Shit.
I got a little bit of that bomb-diggety in my pocket. Easy now. Everything's gonna work out. Don't get jumpy.
"Why don't you step on down out of that van now?" Did he actually pull my door open? Whoa!
Can they do that? Either way, he just did.
Now I'm standing there looking down about seven inches on this little guy in a very uncomfortable-looking uniform with a big grin on his face.
You'd think he just ate a canary.
"Wanna tell me what you doin over here on this side of town hippie?" He actually leaned forward as he posed his question. The more to try to intimidate me I suppose.
Hippie? Oh no! I'm in a time warp. This cat still thinks there's hippies around. I guess with my big goatee and french braid down to my ass, driving that van, I must look like a hippie to him.
Refugee from a Rob Zombie video was the look I was going for at the time.
Well, like I told ya when I pulled you over a few minutes ago officer, I have this rental list, and I'm looking for this address so I can see the house that is available. I hadn't been paying attention to what he looked like when I passed him on the street, and asked him to help me with an address.
He was the least helpful cop I've ever approached for help with anything, and that's saying something.
"White folks don't live down here on this side of town son." It was a command rather than a statement.
They don't? Is that legal officer? I mean, to tell me I can't live somewhere because I'm the wrong color...
He smiled even more broadly and exclaimed "This is a high-crime drug area."
Ah. Well that just explains everything now doesn't it?
Obviously this guy thinks he is just the man who is going to tell me how things are, and how they are going to be. What's the best way to play this....hmmmm. Obviously he thinks I'm a moron, so lets play along. Okay, I'm stupid.
Seeing that I'm thinking this over, he pushes on.
"Have you got a criminal record?"
No.
"I need to see your driver's license."
Wow. We're 5 minutes into this, and now he wants to see my license? Something smells bad, I'm thinking. He didn't ask for my insurance. I'll think maybe I'll just get it for him. I pull out my license, and hand it to him with two fingers. As he takes it and looks at the information, I turn to go get the insurance out of the van.
"Hey where do you think you're going?" He puts his hand on his revolver. Wow. This guy has got some serious issues, I'm thinking.
To get my insurance card. You need that too don't you? I know I'm really pushing my luck here. Like dancing with a rattlesnake. Fascinating.
"Your license was first issued only a year ago, but you're 27. Why is that?" My interrogator demands.
I moved here from out of state I tell him. Duh. What is this guy's problem?
"And you have no record anywhere?"
No sir.
"Well we will just see what we can't do about that!" he exclaims. Is that glee? OMG this guy is having a good time here. This ain't cool at all. Did he just offer to get me a criminal record? Man this guy might be trouble.
"Where do you work?"
I'm in between jobs right now.
"How do you support yourself?"
My wife works.
"What does she do?"
She works in a nightclub.
"The strip place up on the highway?"
Yep.
"And you ain't got no record?"
Nope. Third times a charm. Why is this so hard to believe?
"And you only been in Georgia for a year?"
Yep.
"Is there anything I should know about in that van before I go through it?"
Yeah, there is, officer. There is a Glock model 21 .45 full of hollowpoints under the driver's seat. And in a little card holder over the visor you'll find my permit to carry it.
"I'll just bet that was issued the same time your license was too, hunh?"
What the heck is up this guy's ass? I'm thinking. Slowly it begins to dawn on me what's up. If you're incorrigible enough, this could be worth a chuckle, I start to believe.
Could this be my angle? Is opportunity knocking at the door?
Will our hero yet again escape the clutches of the vile and dastardly po-lice?
Well yeah, I got my permit the first week I lived here, just like my license. It's the law ya know, that you have to change your license within so many days of moving.
You could have cut the insolence with a knife.
The smile vanished from his face. The guy became very grave and serious all of a sudden, he leaned into me in that annoying way he has once again and said in a low voice...
"Mister, just who are you working for anyway?"
The hook was set, the fish on the line, and with net in hand I said to him:
Officer, even if I was working for some other law enforcement agency, the last thing in the world I'd be able to do is discuss it with you, and you ought to know that. Don't ask me any questions that could land us both in trouble. And I thrust my jaw out at him and put my hands on my hips and stared him down.
He left in such a hurry, he forgot all about searching my van, and had to walk back to me from his car to return my driver's license, which he fished out of his front pocket where he had put it.
I think I made him wet his pants.
Months later I was getting ready to leave that small town. I had found decent work in a bigger city. I saw a friend's son walking down the street and offered the kid a ride.
"Hey man, do you mind if I stop at my buddy's house and get a bag? I'll burn one with ya." my friend's kid said to me.
No problem I said, where do you want to go?
Oh, he stays out by where the cops keep their meth lab. You know where that is don'tcha?
After he said that I decided it would be unwise to waste any time moving out of town. Skitzer cops. Thats what the world needs!
"SHUT IT OFF!!!" the grizzled old radar trapper yelled at me.
And so I did with a grin, shaking my head. I had just successfully came to a complete stop and looked both ways before continuing on at 10mph for the 12th block in a row with him right on my bumper.
And he pulled me over anyway.
That's what I get for asking a cop for directions.
Was he eyeballing me over the top of those $1.99 aviator's glasses, or studying the ground for his lost clue?
Removing my M-frame Oakleys I realized I had seen this piece of work before. Hmmmm. Where do I know this cat from?
I'd only been to this town twice, and the first time a buddy was driving in the front seat while in the backseat a girl was showing me her prowess at the game of hide the sausage.
The second time....oooh shit. That's the guy I held the door for at the stop n rob last week up here. The one who was standing behind me while I was complaining about their lack of choice in rolling papers.
Shit.
I got a little bit of that bomb-diggety in my pocket. Easy now. Everything's gonna work out. Don't get jumpy.
"Why don't you step on down out of that van now?" Did he actually pull my door open? Whoa!
Can they do that? Either way, he just did.
Now I'm standing there looking down about seven inches on this little guy in a very uncomfortable-looking uniform with a big grin on his face.
You'd think he just ate a canary.
"Wanna tell me what you doin over here on this side of town hippie?" He actually leaned forward as he posed his question. The more to try to intimidate me I suppose.
Hippie? Oh no! I'm in a time warp. This cat still thinks there's hippies around. I guess with my big goatee and french braid down to my ass, driving that van, I must look like a hippie to him.
Refugee from a Rob Zombie video was the look I was going for at the time.
Well, like I told ya when I pulled you over a few minutes ago officer, I have this rental list, and I'm looking for this address so I can see the house that is available. I hadn't been paying attention to what he looked like when I passed him on the street, and asked him to help me with an address.
He was the least helpful cop I've ever approached for help with anything, and that's saying something.
"White folks don't live down here on this side of town son." It was a command rather than a statement.
They don't? Is that legal officer? I mean, to tell me I can't live somewhere because I'm the wrong color...
He smiled even more broadly and exclaimed "This is a high-crime drug area."
Ah. Well that just explains everything now doesn't it?
Obviously this guy thinks he is just the man who is going to tell me how things are, and how they are going to be. What's the best way to play this....hmmmm. Obviously he thinks I'm a moron, so lets play along. Okay, I'm stupid.
Seeing that I'm thinking this over, he pushes on.
"Have you got a criminal record?"
No.
"I need to see your driver's license."
Wow. We're 5 minutes into this, and now he wants to see my license? Something smells bad, I'm thinking. He didn't ask for my insurance. I'll think maybe I'll just get it for him. I pull out my license, and hand it to him with two fingers. As he takes it and looks at the information, I turn to go get the insurance out of the van.
"Hey where do you think you're going?" He puts his hand on his revolver. Wow. This guy has got some serious issues, I'm thinking.
To get my insurance card. You need that too don't you? I know I'm really pushing my luck here. Like dancing with a rattlesnake. Fascinating.
"Your license was first issued only a year ago, but you're 27. Why is that?" My interrogator demands.
I moved here from out of state I tell him. Duh. What is this guy's problem?
"And you have no record anywhere?"
No sir.
"Well we will just see what we can't do about that!" he exclaims. Is that glee? OMG this guy is having a good time here. This ain't cool at all. Did he just offer to get me a criminal record? Man this guy might be trouble.
"Where do you work?"
I'm in between jobs right now.
"How do you support yourself?"
My wife works.
"What does she do?"
She works in a nightclub.
"The strip place up on the highway?"
Yep.
"And you ain't got no record?"
Nope. Third times a charm. Why is this so hard to believe?
"And you only been in Georgia for a year?"
Yep.
"Is there anything I should know about in that van before I go through it?"
Yeah, there is, officer. There is a Glock model 21 .45 full of hollowpoints under the driver's seat. And in a little card holder over the visor you'll find my permit to carry it.
"I'll just bet that was issued the same time your license was too, hunh?"
What the heck is up this guy's ass? I'm thinking. Slowly it begins to dawn on me what's up. If you're incorrigible enough, this could be worth a chuckle, I start to believe.
Could this be my angle? Is opportunity knocking at the door?
Will our hero yet again escape the clutches of the vile and dastardly po-lice?
Well yeah, I got my permit the first week I lived here, just like my license. It's the law ya know, that you have to change your license within so many days of moving.
You could have cut the insolence with a knife.
The smile vanished from his face. The guy became very grave and serious all of a sudden, he leaned into me in that annoying way he has once again and said in a low voice...
"Mister, just who are you working for anyway?"
The hook was set, the fish on the line, and with net in hand I said to him:
Officer, even if I was working for some other law enforcement agency, the last thing in the world I'd be able to do is discuss it with you, and you ought to know that. Don't ask me any questions that could land us both in trouble. And I thrust my jaw out at him and put my hands on my hips and stared him down.
He left in such a hurry, he forgot all about searching my van, and had to walk back to me from his car to return my driver's license, which he fished out of his front pocket where he had put it.
I think I made him wet his pants.
Months later I was getting ready to leave that small town. I had found decent work in a bigger city. I saw a friend's son walking down the street and offered the kid a ride.
"Hey man, do you mind if I stop at my buddy's house and get a bag? I'll burn one with ya." my friend's kid said to me.
No problem I said, where do you want to go?
Oh, he stays out by where the cops keep their meth lab. You know where that is don'tcha?
After he said that I decided it would be unwise to waste any time moving out of town. Skitzer cops. Thats what the world needs!
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